A window into another world, unlike my own. On this particular day, I was walking around the city with Billy; things weren't going well photographically. I set up a photo session to photograph three woman and their children inside their home. When I arrived, I was greeted with kisses on the cheek, and a statement how I am always on time. However, by western standards, I was an hour late. Once I arrived, I was told that they did not have time for me to photograph today, and they were on there way, out the door, to visit a friend in the hospital. Moments prior to entering the three women's house, Billy ran into one of his friends; an intriguing journalist, and a beautiful woman, who is wise beyond her years, and just returning home from work. Billy suggested we pay her a visit. We sat for a while, in her lonely, modern, small apartment with no windows, lit only by two small lamps sitting on opposite sides of the couch, and the fluorescent light illuminating from the Hong Kong green kitchen. Sitting on top of the snow white, tiled stove was a tarnished espresso maker eroding over time. It is a one bedroom apartment, just the right size for one person, which is usually uncommon. She said her family is in another city, 13 hours Southeast, yet her work is here. She prepared us coffee, the staple in most homes, and prepared with little light, electricity, water, yet always with music. Eventually, we made our way to the roof, where another man resided; make shift walls, yet with windows. I spent the rest of the evening photographing from this location, watching the sun set, amongst the city of decay, but not despair. Not yet anyway. A city of hope found only in the decay; Un ciudad de esperanza.